Desmond held his wife's hand as she let out a soft grunt. Her body was trembling, a sheen of sweat on her body.
She had gone into labor earlier that day, her water breaking at the table as they sat down for breakfast. Desmond wasn't sure what to do; despite Olivia telling him she'd be fine, the pain she was feeling was clearly written on her face. He wouldn't admit that he had panicked, but the way he was shaking when he went to Raymond told an entirely different story.
"Just a bit more, Mrs. Sycamore," one of the nurses said. Desmond was clearly panicking more than Olivia was, he looked at the nurse with wide eyes. The nurse glanced at him. "She'll be okay. She's in good hands."
At that moment, Olivia gripped his hand tightly as she let out a strained, high-pitched scream, her head lifting off the hospital bed, her teeth ground together and her eyes clenched shut. Desmond gave a soft gasp, not at the pain of his hand being crushed, but the loud cry of a child. Olivia relaxed, her head falling back and her breathing labored. His eyes were wide when the doctor reached and pulled out --
It was his child. It was….
"It's a girl." Desmond felt the sting of tears in his eyes. Olivia was smiling, her own tears trailing down her face as they placed the child on the table next to the hospital bed, cleaning her of fluids and sucking it from her mouth and nose. She was still crying, her tiny arms and legs shaking when they clamped the umbilical cord and looked over at Desmond.
"Would you like to cut it?" Desmond blinked.
"What?"
"The cord. It needs to be cut."
"O-oh." He thought for a moment, then nodded. They motioned for Des to go over. He gave Olivia's hand a slight squeeze before standing and walking over to the table where his daughter was laying.
His. His daughter. He felt dizzy. She was his daughter. His hands were shaking as he grabbed the scissors and carefully snipped the cord.
"What's her name?" Desmond gave a shaky smile. He and Olivia had discussed this beforehand.
"Violet."
"A beautiful name." A bow was placed around her head, a pink blanket wrapped around her. The doctor carefully picked up Violet and handed her to Olivia. She was cradled carefully in her mother's arms, and Violet's crying started to fade slightly.
"Hello, Violet," she whispered, using a shaky hand to stroke her daughter's hair. Her smile never faded. Desmond moved back to his seat next to Olivia. His mind was still whirling; he could only stare at the two most important people in his life.
"Can a Mr. Raymond come in?" Olivia nodded.
"Of course." Raymond entered then, his eyes wide when they landed on the scene. Olivia motioned for him to come closer, and he did, stopping at the edge of the bed. Desmond's hands were still shaking from the experience. Olivia looked at him.
"Do you want to hold her?" He blinked. He could hold her this early on?
"Can I?" Olivia gave a soft laugh.
"Of course you can." The small bundle was passed over to him. His eyes were wide. She was here, Violet was actually here. He gave a large, watery smile. His tears started trailing down his face then, dripping onto the blanket. He gingerly touched her hair, it was so soft. Her skin was so soft, everything about her was soft and round and fragile. He let out a soft laugh; he couldn't stop stroking his daughter's hair.
"Hello, my little flower." He leaned down, planting a kiss on his daughter's head. The baby wrinkled her nose before her expression smoothed out again.
Everything that had happened prior in his life was well worth this. He couldn't stop smiling, his tears continuing to fall. Olivia and Raymond were looking at him, both their expressions happy and calm.
Everything was alright. Everything was going to be alright. Desmond was convinced as he stared down at his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
This was one of the best Valentine's he had had in a long time.